Aucun mytho [English translation]

[Chorus]

Redo, this means war, war.

You can retreive me on the aftermath.

I fight against the leaders of the game, of the game,

I'm more blessed than his amateurs.

How can it be equally good ?

Will it take the good luck charm ?

You consider knowing me, you don't know me at all, don't get on my nerves.

I'm about to plan the same without a bastard on my way.

Not on the same planet, not the same damn manoeuvre.

No myth, tell them that there is no myth in our place.

No myth, tell them that there is no myth in our place.

[1st Verse: H-Magnum]

Small vintage, creates illusion.

Don't compare me with other ones for they are too stupid,

for the unreleased don't give hints.

Don't talk behind my back for I'll close up your lips.

I make my proper tunes well and I admit that they aren't Billie Jean.

If my album was small, it would be called Lady Di.

The right ones congratulate me and for the ones who request,

I wrote you down. I make no accomplishments.

Watch out for the madness, I have fans within the police.

Watch out for the madness, it wants me to play cards on its bed.

[Chorus]

[2nd Verse: H-Magnum]

You know the process, check out the finishing case.

I wouldn't make gifts somehow for my daughter.

I'm a cultivated person, I've got ammos.

Here lies the pure inspiration, no imitation.

The rap is political, it wants to suppress my team and it converted my tag into money.

The album holds olympic humour.

I'm used to the words, you girls can touch my sword.

I wrote you down. I'm a boy underneath.

[Chorus]

[3rd Verse: Black M]

Do you wonder why I'm not different ?

No myth, go tell them that there's no myth in our place.

No myth, go tell them that there's no myth in our place.

I'm a good child of my pastor, I'm a right number.

I was liberated from my chainlinks like my father Django.

My son makes the tour of Africa from Conakry to Congo.

But you can see the fast tracks on me that are broken

in spite of my hundreds of thousands routes within th net.

When the sun knocks: the t-shirt, the sunglasses.

Go tell the waiters of Fourquet that I can pay them now.

• Artist:H Magnum